


Trust Exercise

by Anonymous



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fingering, M/M, Minor Implied Xemnas/Xigbar, Multi, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Xigbar Is Not Nice To You, threat kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:56:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23707486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: You’ve been with the Organization for a while now, and Xemnas wants to test your loyalty. He sends Xigbar to see how well you can follow orders, but when you botch your mission, you’re forced to beg him for a second chance to prove yourself. Xigbar’s ready to give you an easy out if you close your eyes and participate in a trust exercise. But it seems to involve more stripping than most…
Relationships: Xigbar (Kingdom Hearts)/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 61
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

“Fuck yeah.” You slump down into the soft grass, your hand raised triumphant in the air, saluting Xigbar with a hi-potion. There’s more adrenaline running through your veins than blood, but it’s over.   
  
Xigbar caps the ether he’d been about to down and frowns at you, prodding your ribs with the toe of his boot. “Celebrating, are we, Nineteen?”

You lower the bottle from your lip, wipe a spare drip from your cheek, and grin back. “I passed, didn’t I?”

He leans back against a sturdy ash tree, and adjusts his glove. “Passed?”  
  
You scowl and tuck the empty bottle into your bag. _No one in this damn Organization knows how to be straight with anyone else._ You lean back on your palms, and meet his stare.

“Whatever damn test I’m meant to be taking. I’m not stupid. They don’t just send _you_ on missions with people for fun.” You lift a hand to indicate his body, propped up before you, sleeves pushed up against the heat to reveal lean, tanned muscle, etched with scars like the cracking statue of some lost god.

His lip curls. He takes a sip of the ether, motions with the bottle down your body like you had his. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, newbie.”

“I completed the mission,” you reason, watching a cut on your wrist mend itself. “The Heartless is dead. So, I passed.” 

Xigbar holds the ether bottle he’s half-emptied out toward you. “Unless the Heartless _wasn’t_ the test.”

You reach out to take the bottle, but he doesn’t let go. “What?”

He grins at you, but it’s not vindictive or kind, just reflexive. “You ignored my order to wait and the target got away. You tracked it down again, ignored my recommendation to aim for its head, nearly got yourself killed, had to backtrack to heal up, nearly lost the beastie again…Sweetheart, you fucked up the mission.”

“There were some set-backs,” you acknowledge. The Organization is teaching you to bend the truth to fit your vision. “And then I killed it. You didn’t even have to summon your guns. So, mission complete, I passed.”

You drink the rest of the ether, trying not to think about the lips that wrapped it just before yours and utterly failing.

Xigbar drops down on a knee in front of you, his glove cupping your cheek. “Darlin’, your disobedience cost the Organization invaluable time, energy, and resources that could have been best used elsewhere. So, no. You didn’t fucking pass.”

With all the pent-up energy in your body, all you want is to jump up and slash at something. But all you can do is wrap your hand around the wrist of the man cradling your face and sputter. “I—but…”

You try to pry him off, but you may as well be pushing at a wall.

“We know you have the skills.” His brows furrow with faux sympathy. “Problem is when we say jump, you don’t stop to ask how high.” There are crinkles around his eye, and his thumb brushes across your cheek. “Shame, really. I was just starting to get used to having ya around.” He lowers his hand and you drop his wrist like a hot coal.

Xigbar stretches to his feet, and you scramble to follow suit.

“What do you mean? What’s Xemnas going to do to me if I don’t pass?”

“Tch.” Xigbar smiles again, and you think it’s cruel that it makes his face seem handsome. He reaches for the chain of silver hanging from the neck of your coat, and tugs it. You step forward so he doesn’t snap the damn thing. Saix doesn’t like issuing new uniforms any more than he likes ripped ones. “Pup doesn’t pass obedience training, you don’t keep the pup, do you?”  
  
“Bull shit.”  
  
He wraps the chain around his hand, pulling you another step forward, and he leans in, voice low, taunting, “Did you think we just decided to call Axel the Organization’s assassin because it _sounded nice?”_

“You don’t get rid of a puppy!” you insist, pressing your hands against his chest to stop him from pulling you any closer, trying not to register how nice it is to have pure muscle beneath your palms. 

He tilts his head, smiling, considering. “No?”  
  
Your eyes trace the old scar, brutally slashed across his cheek. You wonder how it got there. It occurs to you you’re asking for mercy from the wrong person. “No, you… keep training it. You try again. Because puppies are young and…”

“Stupid? Cute? _Gullible?_ ”

You grit your teeth at his smile which seems to grow more attractive the more he’s mocking you. “They don’t know any better.”

He unwraps the chain from around his hand and rests his palm against your bare throat. “You want _another_ obedience test?”

“I—yes.” You swallow. His hand seems poised to choke you without a second thought. Maybe he wants to cut this argument short, but you can’t let Xemnas punish you, you can’t let Axel turn you into a Dusk. You have to try to convince him. “Please, Xigbar.” You lock eyes with him, your fingers dig into the heavy leather of his coat. “Give me another chance to earn Xemnas’ trust. I’ll do whatever he wants. Please.”

“Xemnas has always been a, uh, _particular_ man,” Xigbar sneers, “according to Saix anyway.” His thumb strokes up your trachea, but the joke’s on him because you’re already having trouble breathing. “How about whatever _I_ want?”

“Are…” Your throat has become dry, and you have to pause to clear it. “Are we still talking about fighting Heartless?”

“Ha.” His hand travels up, tilts your chin until you meet his eye, more gold than brown in the sunlight streaming into the grove you’re resting in. “No.”

“Hey…” You pull back warily. “We’ve talked about this…”

Xigbar’s hit on you before, but Xigbar hits on everyone. And yeah, he’s tried to take your coat off, so to speak, on more than one occasion, but only when he was particularly intoxicated.

_Of course, they say adrenaline’s intoxicating in its own right._

Xigbar leans back as well, arms crossing. “You want a good report to Xemnas or not, Nineteen?”

You huff, mirror his movements. “Yes, _of course_ —” 

“Then, let’s play a game,” Xigbar spreads his palms like it’s a peace offering. 

It’s certainly not what you were expecting him to say. “What _kind_ of a game?”

“A trust exercise,” he answers, simple, like he’s asking you to collect emblems or get the lay-out of a town square. “Show me you can follow instructions.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. Close your eyes.”

He stares you down, his eye, his frame, his height, his scar, there’s nothing about him that’s not intimidating. It would be sexier if he weren’t considering killing you a couple minutes back.

“Okay…” Your next breath is shakier. “But, Xigbar… If we take too long, Saix will literally kill—”

“Saix will never know,” his voice is soft, reassuring, but it’s not real and it doesn’t last. He sighs. “Your eyes are still open. You’re already losing points, sweetheart...”

This is why you’ve never let Xigbar get you alone before.

It’s not that you’re not into him. It’s just that he outranks you by a long shot. And he’s kind of an asshole.

“Fine.”

You shut your eyes.

You hear him chuckle and know immediately that you’ve made a tremendous mistake. “Good.”

You can feel the cool air around you as Xigbar opens a dark corridor and a rush of warmth as you reappear somewhere else. The spongy ground beneath your feet is replaced with something more concrete. You can hear the crackle of a fire, smell the faint scent of ash and cologne.

“Where…?” you mumble.  
  
“Shh…” Xigbar’s voice is a whisper at your ear, you can feel stubble brush your cheek and aren’t sure if it’s real or imagined. “Enough chit chat. Unzip your coat.”

“Why—” Before you can get more than that out, his thumb is on your lower lip. You can taste the leather of his glove as your saliva starts to pool.

“What did I just fucking say?” he asks quietly, but you’ve already fallen silent. His thumb slips further into your mouth, and he begins to stroke your tongue.

This alone makes everything hazy, harder to process, but you remember his previous instruction and fumble for the zipper at the collar of your Organization coat.

“Other direction,” he corrects, his words quieter, more amused. “Keep your eyes shut.”

You want to say something about that, about what it most obviously _means._ The words vibrate in your throat and come out as a brief hum, but the press of his thumb on your tongue stops them flat.

You reach for the bottom zipper of your coat.

“Suck,” Xigbar directs, knuckles brushing your chin, and as you slide the zipper up toward your waist, you close your lips around his finger and slide your tongue along the leather until you can feel the creases, bone by bone.

”Mm,” he hums from somewhere deep in his throat, pressing harder into the massage of your damp tongue against his stroking finger. “Shit...” You’re starting to memorize the taste of Organization leather. He taps far back as he can at the raw roof of your mouth. “Bite down.”

You hesitate, but only a moment, bite down softly, your teeth catching in the leather, and with a groan, he slowly draws his thumb out of the glove, leaving it dangling from your lip. You don’t notice the saliva pooling at the corner of your mouth until he wipes it away with his bare skin.

After several long moments, you let the glove drop, and hear him hum his disapproval.

He has you step out of your boots next, asks you to step backward, and then backward again and again, blindly, until your back meets the rough scraping edges of a wall, jutting, stone, something hard and unforgiving.

“Stand at attention. Be quiet. Lord Xemnas is working.”

 _Not right here he’s fucking not,_ you object mentally, but you hold your body straight, and clasp your hands behind your back.

You can feel the heat of him moving closer, and then his fingers are deftly unbuttoning and unzipping your trousers. 

He pauses abruptly, his fingers looping through belt loops, and pulls your pelvis toward him. He’d told you to stay still, so you pull back, tensing as fingers slip beneath the band of your undergarment, snapping the fabric against your skin. “Is this Organization sanctioned clothing?”

Nobody ever gave you any fucking Organization sanctioned _underwear,_ but you doubt this is what he wants to hear.

You jolt as, without further warning, Xigbar’s hand slips fully inside the thin fabric, and he cups you with a rough, strong grip that makes your muscles start to pulse traitorously against his hot skin. 

“N-no.” A sound that you aren’t fully responsible for leaves your throat, and he cocks an eyebrow at you, amused.

“Better get rid of it then, hm?” 

You wish his hum weren’t quite so sexy.

“Fine,” your words are breathier than you mean for them to be as his fingers begin to brush into more sensitive areas, “whatever…” You reach to take off the offending item, but find your wrist caught in his opposite hand.

“Tch. I can do that, you do this.” He draws your hand toward him, rests your palm against the crotch of his standard issue Organization trousers, and more specifically, against the stiff shaft beneath them.

With your eyes still shut, you have to shift your palm around to locate belt buckle, button, and zipper. His dick hardens and shifts against you at the attention. You only vaguely notice this, however, because in the time it takes you to fumble your way to unbuckle, unbutton, and unzip, Xigbar has entirely relieved you of your pants and underwear and begun stroking your thighs, squeezing your ass.

As you finally manage to finish coaxing his stuck zipper open around his thickened cock, your hands hesitate, resting on his belt. You are rewarded with Xigbar pushing two long, callused fingers inside your body—not slow, not gentle—immediately, relentlessly  _fucking_ you with them, over and over again, filling you with a wet, slick, satisfying, rhythmic friction, pressure that makes your mind go white with bliss. 

Your thighs spread on reflex, inching him deeper, and he snorts.

“How much do you think you can take there, sweetheart, hm?”

A third finger has you rocking your body needily into his waiting palm like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. He laughs and mocks your moaning to cover up his, and fucks you harder. He pushes your shoulder into the wall, and you brace your back against the jutting stones. A steamy and wet sensation greets your skin, as his mouth finds the juncture where your shoulder meets your neck, and he bites down, sharp, sudden, bruising, and you’re breathing harder already but now you absolutely  _whine_.

And then he adds a fourth finger, most of his hand pounding into you, and your body starts to complain, and you can feel an objection choke your throat, because it’s too much but you don’t want it to stop.

“Alright…” you moan. “Alright… I can’t…”

“Mm. Looks like you _can._ ”

You make a sound somewhere between a moan and a whine. 

“Xigbar. You heard your subordinate,” interjects another voice, smooth, silken, commanding. _Xemnas._ “Enough.”

“The hell?” you mutter, dazed, and Xigbar laughs and rocks his hand into you one more time, further, harder, and you feel so full you’re convinced something in you will rip. You gasp when he pulls out with a damp pop. Suddenly, you feel hollowed out and aching, and all you can hear is Xemnas’ voice, replaying in your head. _Enough._

“Alright, sweetheart,” Xigbar sets his hand on the side of your face, though the smell is not pleasant, and brushes his lips faintly against yours. “Nicely done. You’ve given Lord Xemnas a display of your obedience. We’re done. You can open your eyes.”

Your eyes fly open and are met with a mocking light brown one.

“What do you mean?” You glance around wildly. You’ve only seen the space once so it takes you a moment to identify Lord Xemnas’ warm, decadent chambers, their white walls hung with ornately woven ebony and gold tapestries. More specifically, you’re pressed against the wall of the fireplace just beside his desk, half-naked, with Xigbar’s hand snaking up your coat to rub at your nipple. Xemnas’ elegantly carved chair’s angled toward you. He rises with his otherworldly grace and slowly approaches. 

“Xigbar was tasked with evaluating your loyalty and obedience to my Organization,” Xemnas explains, gold eyes raking over you both. “I must admit, when he bragged that he could get you to do _anything,_ I was skeptical. But I stand corrected. Your loyalty and obedience are beyond reproach.” Xemnas pats your ass cheek and your actual cheek simultaneously. “Congratulations, darling. You live to serve us another day.”

Your skin is burning and it has nothing to do with the fire crackling in its grate beside you. You’re incapable of feeling angry, but you think maybe now is the time when you ought to.

“Don’t forget what I’ve taught you,” Xigbar teases, giving your nipple a final pinch. You manage not to gasp until he sets his lips back to the stinging mark you’d almost been able to forget he’d set into your shoulder. 

“You…asshole,” you grit out.

“I know, I know.” Xigbar tilts his head toward the door. “You heard the man. Mission accomplished. Away you get.”

You take a step away from this, if there is any getting away from this ever again. Still, all you feel is empty, and all you _want…_

“But we didn’t…” You glance from Xemnas to Xigbar, half naked in front of you. “He’s still…”

Xigbar definitely hasn’t gotten off yet. His cock is fully visible, standing at attention beneath his Organization standard issue boxer briefs. “What, did you want something else?” Xigbar’s lip quirks, beefy arms crossing. “Suppose you _could_ stay awhile…”

“Are you out of your _mind?_ Lord Xemnas doesn’t want—”

“Don’t presume to tell me what I want. Please, continue, if you wish,” Xemnas answers, calm and unflappable as ever, returning to his desk and his paperwork. He flicks his pen toward a canopy that takes up most of the room. “There’s a bed.”

Xigbar chuckles. “We won’t need it.”

The bruises from the stones at your back sing out in objection. “I—” You don’t have words, but your mind is losing its haze and the ache in your core throbs and stings. 

Xigbar slides down his boxer briefs. “See something you like?”

You look him dead in the eye. “I’m going to murder you.” But he already has his strong arms wrapping around your back, and you’re not going anywhere. 

“Fine, fine. Fair enough.” He guides your hand back to his cock, smirking all the while. “Did you want to sit on this for me first? Celebrate a job well done?”

 _”I...”_ You shut your eyes for a moment as you consider, but he’s already lifting you up by the ass and your legs wind themselves tight around his waist, until his hot, rock-hard cock brushes your wet entrance. You can feel the singe of Lord Xemnas’ steady gaze, and wondering what his reaction will be somehow makes you want it more.

”Yeah?” Xigbar prompts quietly.

You open your eyes and trace his lazy smile. You can’t feel his heart against your chest, but you can hear the uneven kilter of his breathing. He might be too arrogant to admit it, but he wants you too. Wants to feel complete for a moment, even if it isn’t real.

“Fuck yeah,” you reply, and Xigbar sinks into you. 


	2. Light and Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning to write another chapter, because I liked the way the last one ended, but then I did anyway? Trying to learn to write smut. Smh.

Xigbar sinks into you and your body arches. You feel full, sated, until the back of your head collides with the stones of the fireplace behind you. 

“Damn it…” you mumble on a strangled breath, bracing your hands on his shoulders, resting your forehead against his, as your head pounds.

Xigbar chuckles in surprise. You hear him take a breath to say something but Xemnas speaks first, pointedly, “Xigbar… Unless you’d like your partner to lose consciousness before you finish, I think Nineteen would prefer pillows to rocks.”

“The thought had crossed my mind.” 

His hand reaches to stroke the back of your head, fingers gliding through hair in a not so subtle search for blood or bump.

When Xemnas offers no other comment on the matter, Xigbar concedes, “Alright, alright, we’ll do it your way.” His hand drops down to the small of your back steadying you against him. “Easy, love.”

Lazily, Xigbar walks you both to the bed. Each step brings a teasingly shallow thrust into you, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning like a whore at such minimal contact. 

“And leave the curtains open,” Xemnas adds to Xigbar as he draws open the black canopy to reveal a king bed with a sleek ebony bed set, stitched with golden runes. "Obviously."

“Anything for you, boss.”

Without warning, Xigbar releases his grip on your waist, and your back hits the plush comforter. You wince. You can feel every groove where the fireplace dug against your back all at once. Fortunately, you have other things to focus on. Xigbar’s still sheathed in you, your legs wound around his waist, as he stands at the edge of the bed. 

He slowly thrusts into you just once to better position himself to reach across your body for a pillow and with painstaking care, plumps it and positions it beneath your head.

“For God’s sake,” you hiss, rolling your hips, trying to bait him. He grins back, a stunning, shit-eating thing. He rests his hands on your hips, casual, but you know he’s promising to pin them down if you try anything else, so you stop.

“Xigbar…” Xemnas calls again, an ever-present warning in his voice. “While I appreciate your desire to fuck Nineteen as torturously, deeply, and thoroughly as possible, I would prefer to see more of you than the back of your coat while you do it.”

The giggle in your throat at Xigbar being ordered around sounds dazed and a little insane even to your own ears. You can feel yourself getting wetter in response to Xemnas’ attention, and you doubt Xigbar misses the accompanying muscle spasm either.

Xigbar makes a dry sound, and you’re not sure whether it’s amusement or exasperation. “Sure thing, boss.” Xigbar unclasps the chain at his throat, swipes at the zipper and lets the coat fall away in its entirety to reveal a wife beater, tan skin, and muscles more obscenely large than you realized. He’s slightly glossy from standing near the fire. His tank top is off and flung across Xemnas’ desk ten seconds later. "How's that?" 

Xemnas smiles, pushes the garment aside with his pen, and continues writing. "It's a start." 

“My God,” you mutter, imagining that skin on yours.

“That’s exactly who I am, sweetheart.” Xigbar grins, the golden eye meeting yours gleaming in an ethereal way that makes you half believe it. He leans flush into you, your body pulsing against his intruding dick, desperate for the thrusts he’s withholding. “Your turn.” His pinky finger catches the chain at your chest and with a jerk of his hand, rips it off entirely. Your breathing picks up, the proximity scarier when you can see him looming over you, all gleaming teeth and stretching muscle. 

But, _Fuck,_ you didn’t want to have to explain your broken coat to Saïx… 

You quickly unzip the torso of your coat, dragging your hand between your chests, your knuckles brushing his sturdy slick muscles until the zipper clinks open. He lifts you easy as a toy and shifts your arms free and then unceremoniously balls up your coat and tosses it over his shoulder.

You groan audibly this time. You can’t help it. Your words come out airy and thoughtless, “You said Saïx _wasn’t_ going to kill me for this.” 

He goes rigid everywhere, his grip on your hips bruising. His brows jump up, breath hot on your face. “You’re thinking about _Saïx_ right now?”

You can hear Xemnas chuckling in the distance, a foreboding thing. 

“I’d rather not be, but my coat, I’ve only got the one, and he’ll—Ngh.”

Xigbar's teeth dig into the side of your neck, and you stop breathing.

“I said I’d deal with that, and I will.” He whispers into your tender skin, each word a dig of his teeth that makes you wince. “You mention Saïx one more time, and I’ll tear your damn throat out.”

The threat makes your body pulse around him, and you can feel his lip curl against your neck, his stubble scratching.

“Does that turn you on, Nineteen?” He presses his lips gently to your injury. You think you feel blood smearing. “Do you want me to rip you to pieces?”

“No—” Your body tightens again around him, drawing him in further.

“Your mouth says one thing, your pussy says another…” His grip on your hip shifts back to massage your ass, and with a shaky moan, your legs spread for him despite his unpleasant ministrations to your throat. “You know, a Nobody can only feel two things: pain,” his teeth glide against your skin, “and pleasure,” his dick twitches teasingly inside you, “light and dark. It feels good to feel anything. It feels better to feel both. I could show you.”

You’re pretty sure you hate him. He understands your Nobody’s biology on some primal level, and you hate it. Mainly, you hate that he’s right, that one feeling seems to intensify the other. That you’re curious... You certainly aren’t about to admit it, and let him get any more carried away than he already _has..._

“I don’t want you to rip me to—” You cut yourself off as his dick twitches again. You decide to start with what you _do_ want. “Please just fuck me senseless.”

“Hm…” He straightens up, pulls most of the way out of you. “You’re already senseless.”

You groan. The sudden absence makes you feel hollow, gaping. 

He glances behind him. “Xemnas, what do you think?”

“I think, perhaps, I didn’t make myself clear earlier.” Xemnas sets down his pen, folds his hands, and makes eye contact with his second in command. “If you’re going to stay here to entertain me, then when on occasion I look up from this damnable paperwork, I want to see my newest Organization member _writhing_ beneath my oldest Organization member in my bed until the sheets are wet and perfumed with your blood and seed. While I write, I want to listen to the music of your frantic breathing and erotic moans. And then when I’m _done_ with this damnable paperwork, you’re going to lie in my arms, and I’ll decide whether _either_ of you deserve a rest.

"Whatever you need to do to accomplish these tasks, I leave entirely in your capable hands. Unless you continue to prove unable to make it onto _the bed,_ in which case, I’ll call Saïx in to oversee your progress.”

Your vision blurs as you lift your head to try and see how serious Xemnas looks, but you’ve never heard Xemnas tell a joke about anything. “Wait a second…”

Xigbar nods like a soldier. “Understood.”

Xemnas nods back and returns to work. You think you see the faintest trace of a smirk on his face. Xigbar exhales through his nose, turns back to you.

“Perfumed with our _what?”_ you question, scrambling to sit up though it means the swollen head of his cock drops out of you completely, and your body throbs, demanding its immediate return.

“Nineteen,” Xigbar’s fingers massage pseudo-apologetically into your pelvis, outlining jutting bone like he wants something more substantial to hold onto, “sometimes, when Lord Xemnas speaks a whole lot of pretty words, and you find yourself getting a little overwhelmed, you need to learn to read between the lines. Let me translate for you.”

His arm snakes around the small of your back, pulling you back to your feet, to his side. His opposite hand rises, radiating dark maroon light. The comforter flies down to the foot of the bed, the pillows rearrange themselves, and then you’re weightless yourself for a moment, his hands once again around your waist, lifting you up. He tosses you onto the bed, onto your back. By the time you catch your breath, he’s propped on an elbow, his whole body pinned atop yours. His free hand grasps your wrists, pinning them up over your head. His ankles twist with yours and coax your bare legs apart.

“What Xemnas was trying to say—what Xemnas is _always_ trying to say—is ‘shut the fuck up,’” his hips align with yours, his cock thick and heavy, and you raise your hips as he thrusts, impaling yourself, “‘and get to work.’”

“I will if you will,” you hiss back as your hip bones meet, his entire cock stretching your tight inner walls to their limit. You’re vaguely aware that it’s a bit much so soon, but fuck it, you can barely feel the bruising ache through the bliss fogging your thoughts, and if he rips you like it feels like he’s trying to, well, that’ll be a later problem. 

Xigbar eases his hips back, dick near out of you again, and presses a quick kiss beside your mouth. “Tch, alright, princess.” He plunges forward once more until your hips snap together. He chuckles, low, sultry. “But you’ll wish I was talkin’ when you see what my mouth likes to do.”

You mean to ask him what that is, but rather than bury himself in you again, he starts to thrust less deeply and more steadily, filling you with a rough pounding that rings through your abdomen, so forcefully he must feel it vibrate all the way through the bones in the hand he sets across your stomach in attempt to steady your rutting into him. Your mind grows fuzzier with pleasure, the sounds he’s making so goddamn intoxicating, the ones pulled from your own throat sensual, entirely unfamiliar to your ear.

Giving the skin of your stomach one last squeeze, his hand glides up your muscles, pausing at your breast, palming hard. He pulls you closer and presses his lips to your shoulder. You’re not sure whether you feel his teeth first or the snap of his hips as he—you realize for the first time— dedicates his full weight into fucking the daylights out of you. He releases your hands, using both of his to grip your ass, and help you grind further into him with every forceful stroke. 

Your fingers wrap his neck, tangling in his hair. If it hurts, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Just continues nipping his way up your shoulder, each bloody ring of skin accompanied by an increasingly brutal, rhythmic thrust that has you biting back into the skin of _his_ shoulder. You choke on the taste of copper, surprised—through your haze as he bores sharper and harder into you like he’s trying to snap you in half—that a man like this can bleed. 

His stamina is inhuman. At some point your nerve endings inside and out are raw and aching so much that you slump back into the sheets, content to let him use you. He doesn’t seem to mind at first, continues riding you, presses a kiss to your forehead. But then one of his hands slips from your asscheek, and a finger prods into your ass, jabbing to urge your hips up to meet his cock whenever you start to falter. You whine and moan in equal measure, your breaths quickening again. 

This new arrangement seems to turn him on, because not long after he manages to wriggle two fingers up your ass, he comes—one long final pound filling you with soothing, burning heat. You inhale sharply in relief though the fingers prod you to ride out his orgasm together, in shallow shaky strokes that match the uneven, desperate cadence of his breathing. He withdraws his fingers from your ass and drops entirely on top of you, apparently exhausted. 

His weight's crushing you, your chest, your lungs, but you can't bring yourself to mind. Your breaths are getting shallow by the time he pulls out, slow, on an exhale. Hot sticky fluid spills from your vagina and drips from his cock, burning scratches you don’t remember acquiring streaked across your thighs.

He presses a weary kiss to one of the dark marks ridging your shoulder and then slides down your body, offering your lungs some relief when his torso settles over your pelvis, though his main objective seems to be to wrap his mouth around one your nipples and suckle until he falls asleep. 

Your left hand strokes cords of muscle, tracing the raised edges of scar tissue, and your right combs through the silky silver and brown tresses of his hair, sticking to his sweat damp neck. 

You can’t sleep. He'd been right. The feelings, the thousand beautiful and agonizing sensations of your bodies grinding together, overwhelm you like you haven’t felt since you were human. Intertwined, you felt full, whole, one, more than half a person. Afraid to die. Afraid not to live.

At some point, you shift one numb arm, and his eye twitches open. “You still up?” he mumbles, half-asleep, rolling you onto his front. You can feel his breath, deep and easy, as you rest your head against his chest, if not his heartbeat.

“Just thinking.”

“‘Bout me?” he teases, rubbing at your back. 

“Yeah.”

He grins like he doesn’t believe you. _“Yeah?”_

“Yeah… The way you made me feel, it was… brutal.” You scan his face. His eye opens wider, mouth drawing tighter, but withholding judgement, at least while your mouth is still open. You shake your head, trying to put words to the burning in your chest. “But also, incredible. I… I just didn’t think I could feel like that anymore.”

“Hey, hey, darlin’...” He starts to chuckle softly, the sounds vibrating from his chest to yours. “All this flattery after I fucked you up. What,” he runs a hand down the inside of your thigh, “you wanna go again?”

You snort, swatting his hand away as you close your eyes. His arms cradle your back, like a child with a bear. “As if,” you reply.

 _“As if,”_ he mimics, tilting his head as he tastes the phrase on his tongue. “I like that. Might steal it from you. _As if.”_ He gives your cheek a gentle tug like he can shake the words loose. 

“You go right ahead.” You bat his hand off like a gnat, and settle your head beneath his chin. 

He gives a large yawn, his eye flicking shut again. His grip around you tightens, his hand still stroking your back absentmindedly. “It’s nice, right?” he says, voice still grumbly with sex and sleep. “Feeling shit again for a minute.”

“Yeah,” you say and shut your eyes too. “Yeah. It’s nice.”  
  
  



End file.
